Artificial Sweetener
by CherryFlavoredChalk
Summary: You know that stupid, unhealthy, nasty-yet-good stuff they put into, like, every substance on this planet? The stuff that your mom tells you to stay away from, 'cause it'll ruin your appetite? Yeah, well, that's you. DISCONTINUED.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**

I own an Axel pin. Not a plushie, a PIN. As in _'a piece of metal that has Axel's face placed on it and that I sometimes wear on my hip, even though the errant pin sometimes stabs through my jeans and into my thigh.'_ But other than that? Yeah, not much else.

**Special Dedication: **

**Dubious.Mischief.Maker** and **Sakueishi,** who read my ficsand have admitted to have LOL'd over them. Oh, yeah, and **The Birdfox Hybrid Productions** and **CloverFromMars **, whose Hayner fics have inspired mine and pwn mine, by like, a lot.

**Author's Note:**

This is what happens when I consume three cups of coffee (each with six packets of sugar--Yes, yes, I am well aware that I am on my way to becoming a diabetic, as my friends inform me every day), one Mocha flavored Moo-Latte, courtesy of Dairy Queen, and of course, a staggering amount of candy. Unsurprisingly, you won't sleep very well (if at all) after eating these. Hence, this fic.

...That's probably, like, the worst excuse ever, but yeah. You guys know what I'm talking about.

* * *

_Wake up, think fast_

_Three weeks have passed_

_We are changing_

_-_The Academy Is..., "Season"

* * *

****

Artificial Sweetener

or

Not Tonight, Josephine

* * *

Chapter 01: Anger Management

Just in case someone's told you different, I was the one who noticed something was wrong with Olette first. Pence, for all his knowledge, wasn't aware of jack, and Roxas, who is supposed to be the most sensitive out of all of us, was too concerned with his own girlfriend to pay much attention to anyone else. As I'm not quite so preoccupied with grades or girlfriends, (I'm gay. "Hahahaha, Hayner's a FAGGOT." Got it out of your system now? Good. Now shut the hell up before I beat you.) it was up to me to notice that something was Not Quite Right with Olette Larsen.

But seriously, I don't know how they missed it. Olette was going nuts; she flipped out at random intervals, spazzing about crap that wasn't even relevant. Take this scene from a week ago:

_"What did you say, Hayner? Did you say something? I must have missed it. Say it again."_

_"Uh. No thanks, I'll pass."_

_"No, go ahead. I won't be mad."_

_"Um…'shut up, 'Lette, you're giving me a-SHIT, WOMAN, THAT'S MY EYE!!"_

So, when Olette appeared in the cafeteria to tell us that she'd organized a meeting at my house (news to me), I knew better than to rush home and bar the door, as had been my first reaction.

"Okay." I say. Like I had a choice. She would've beaten me to death with her Hello Kitty pencil case if I'd said otherwise, and my eye was still swollen from last week. Pence nodded his agreement, but Roxas was the only one who had the guts (or stupidity) to question it.

"Why?"

Olette fidgeted, and for a second, she was back to being Cute Olette, the one I'd been friends with for years. She pulled at the hem of her bright orange shirt and shuffled her feet a couple of times.

"Because I need you guys." she mumbles in this small voice, as if she didn't want to admit it aloud. Olette tends to do this from time to time-she pulls this cutesy act where she shuffles her feet and worries her bottom lip. Once she looks up at us through her eyelashes, it's all over.

"I have things to do." I say. Lie. Unless I intended to do my Algebra II homework, which I didn't. I'd pay Pence to do it for me.

"Please?" Olette says softly, looking at us from beneath her thick eyelashes. One glance from those big green eyes, and me and Pence are putty in her hands.

"We're here for you." Pence goes, patting her folded hands. I'm not too good at emotional stuff ('gay' does not mean 'sap', in any shape or form.) so I just nod at her.

It's a real Dr. Phil moment until Roxas decides to boost his stupidity quotient by 50 by saying, "Hey, can I bring Larxene?"

For those who haven't met Larxene Davies, you are very, very blessed people. She's, okay, gorgeous, smart, and pretty rich from what Roxas has told me, but she also happens to be a crazy bitch. She also has a sister complex, the object of which would be Namine Davies, her younger half-sister. Loads of guys are interested in Larxene, but for some reason she's dating Roxas…General Honors, boy-band-pretty, middle class Roxas Marceaux. Oh, excuse me; she's dating Roxas when she isn't fucking that retarded photographer named Axel McQueen who calls himself "Roxas's best friend". This is a huge lie. I am Roxas's best friend. Not Axel. ME.

Anyways, Larxene Davies is a vicious hoe, and I hope her heels snap in half.

Pence is staring at Roxas like he's sprouted horns from those blonde spikes of his. Olette fixes Roxas with a stare so cold; I swear I can see icicles growing on his up-turned nose.

"I'd rather you kept Larxene out of it. It'd be better if it was just the four of us." Olette replies, her flashing eyes signifying that Roxas will leave his woman at her mansion, or with Axel the Photographer, or he will find himself missing several vital organs. Roxas takes the hint and gives us a hasty farewell. Even from our seats, we can see him meeting and kissing his "I-play-hooky-'cause-my-daddy-practically-owns-the-school" girlfriend hello.

Olette snorts. " _'Can I bring Larxene'?_ Ooohhh, yes, Roxas—bring your stupid girlfriend who made me **cry** in third grade! Bring her so I can stuff my **TI-84** down her **throat**! Bah!" She stabs angrily at her pizza before pushing across the table to Pence, who looks like he just might wet his pants with fear.

"I don't want this." she practically snarls, getting up. She picks up her satchel and obnoxiously girly binder, rushing out of the cafeteria without saying goodbye.

"She's quite terrifying." Pence observes, tearing off some of Olette's mutilated mushroom pizza and handing it to me.

"You got that right."

Yeah, we were all starting to guess that Olette was having some kind of trouble.

We just didn't know how big.

* * *

**Author's Note: **For those who were wondering (i.e, no one) I am not discontinuing **_Euthanasia_**, my RikuRoku story. This is just a lovely break from the serious angst I am putting out for that lovevly fic. I'm actually finished with it, I just have yet to post it.

Anyways.

Would it kill you to review? Why, no, it would not. As much as I love being notified that people -gasp- like my writing enough to put me on Author alert, Story alert, or their Favorites list, it'd be nice to have some feedback, too. LIKE A PM. OR, YOU KNOW, A REVIEW.

(It always comes back to the reviews.)

I'd lie and say it doesn't matter, 'cause gosh, I'm just happy that you're even reading this, but. Yeah. No. I am a greedy person.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:**

If I owned Kingdom Hearts, it'd be a lot weirder than what it is now. Like, Roxas -in-Goth-Loli, random-air-guitar, Marluxia-doing-interpretive-dancing-to-Billy-Joel kind of weird. Yeah, just like that.

**Special Dedication:**

**Static Lull**-who reviews all of my stories, regardless of how crap they are. Oh, hey, Naruto has a new theme song! Yessss, it owns. Er, sorry, Spaff, got a little distracted. Anyways, she owns, and you should go read her SoraNamine ficlet, Amplification. It's made out of sugary goodness, and everyone loves that, right?

**Dubious.Mischief.Maker-**who laughs at my Hayner fic, 'cause it's funny and amuses her to no end.

**And, of course, my reviewers/people who put AS(NTJ) on their story alert slash author alert slash what-the-heck ever-** just a rambling romantic, byakuganwalker, Ranma Higarashi, MasacreInTheLivingRoom, AkitoTsubaki, Forgetfull, A Forgotten Ghost, raifanboy,Miss Manic Dysfunction, ectera ectera.

Thank you all very much. :3 I apologize if I did not reply to your review, and so on and so forth.

Let the story begin!

* * *

_She's so pretty_

_But she doesn't always act that way_

_Her moods are swingin'_

_On the swing set almost every day_

-Relient K, "Mood Swings"

* * *

**Artificial Sweetener**

**or**

**Not Tonight, Josephine**

* * *

Chapter 02:Lock and Key

I've heard my grandpa use this expression a couple of thousand times, "I was outta there like a bat out of hell!" This is stupid to the point where it deserves to be killed, painfully. How do people know if bats live in hell, anyways? It's not like you go visit hell, and then you turn up for lunch or whatever and go, "Oh, by the way, I was in hell, and I saw this bat-" I mean, when has that ever happened?

Never. That's when.

But I've never actually said that to Grandpa, 'cause he'd probably bitch-slap me with his cane and start babbling about the Great War (which he wasn't in) and no one wants that. It's not a pretty sight.

Gay adages aside, I found it coming to mind when the school bell rang for the end of eighth period. I ran over to the bike rack like a sprinter on laxatives, mind not processing much but _'Olette. Home. MUST HURRY.'_ I needed to get my bike and go, and I would've, and maybe that would've slowed down the shitty chain of events somewhat but…

**It wasn't there**.

"SON OF BITCH!" I screech. What was wrong with this world? First Olette tries to stab me in the eye with a pencil case, and then she demands to come over my house for unexplained reasons…now, my bike was gone. And I needed to get home. Like, now. This was karmic revenge for the time when I spiked Pence's lemonade during his mom's lawn party, wasn't it? And here I'd thought all evil-karma had been vanquished by my apologies to Mrs. Dickerson for allowing her son to sing (read: screech) Shania Twain's "That Don't Impress Me Much" at the top of his lungs.

"Where're you headed off to so fast, Hayner? Gonna go play with your dolls?" Seifer taunts, sauntering out from…wherever. Probably the ground. 'Cause he's the devil incarnate.

Seifer Almasy is what people like Pence might call a "pustule on the rear of society". For people who don't speak as if they've swallowed a dictionary, the laymen's term is "an asshole." He and his less-than-bright lackeys, Fuu and Rai, have been calling themselves the "disciplinary committee" since middle school, and usually "enforce the rules" by picking fights with me, Roxas, and Pence. He's gotten a little better since junior high, when he used to punch us out for breathing in his direction, but he still reigns Jack-Off Supreme in my book.

Rai snickers. I can see my bike from behind his gotta-be-steroid muscles. If I have to, I can take him—he doesn't act unless Seifer does, and even then, he's a crappy fighter; he doesn't do much but throw his weight around. Fuu's never anything to worry about; she doesn't do anything but utter single words at random intervals.

"Hey, Rai, I think the short bus left. Shouldn't you be on it?" I ask. He turns to look, his ugly forehead all crinkled in concern, and I dive behind him, crash-landing onto my bike. I would've been going, going, gone if Seifer wasn't standing in my way.

"Move, Seifer!" I snarl, edging my Swinn forward. God. I'd like nothing more than to run all over his stupid, cocky face with my bike (Okay, fine, I'd rather have Axel and Larxene lined up beside them so I mow them over with my Bright Blue Swinn of Death). I'd run him over twice, and then I'd kill him dead (if he wasn't already) and bring him back to life just to do the Algebra II that Xemnas assigned for homework, and then I'd kill him all over again, the stupid, skull cap-wearing bastard. That would brighten my day, I'd smile, and world would be a (sufficiently) better place.

All chances of this fantasy becoming reality crashed, burned, and died when I heard someone squeal, "Hey, Hay-hay! Whatcha doing?"

"Butt out, Axel." Seifer scowls, sounding annoyed. Axel the Moronic Photographer just beams at us, like _'Golly, it's so nice to be with all my friends on such a grand day!'_ and stretches his arms above his head. His smile is one of those oddly scary ones, where it stretches across the face like a rubber band and threatens to snap it in half. It's really kinda freaky, especially as Axel smiles like that all the time. It's the most shit-eating grin I've ever been on the receiving end of, and it makes me what to shatter his molars and shove them down his friggin' esophagus.

"Well. As lovely as this conversation is," I say dryly, "I've actually got places to be. So-- Axel, good luck finding your brain. Seifer, I hope you die. Bye-bye now."

And I sped off on my Swinn into the metaphorical sunset, leaving Seifer and Redheadus Retardus like Batman or something. Wait, no, Batman's a freak—er, like, Zorro. Yeah. He's badass. Like Zorro, off to beat the tar out of…something.

I nearly ran over some old lady coming out of a 7-11("You reckless whippersnapper! Get back here! I'll call the police, I will!" "Yeah, yeah, up yours, lady."), but I felt great. Airy, you know? All untroubled and unconcerned.

And then that's when Fate borrowed Axel's shit-eating grin, and smacked me upside with a two by four.

In otherwise, my life ended with a subtlety that I never even saw coming.

--

Olette had already crawled into my house when I arrived, as could be identified from the noises coming from my room. She was probably going through my stuff; tutting at the dirty laundry that'd been on my floor since two months ago when Mom had suggested that I clean up my room, and pocketing a few of my video games in her satchel.

"Olette! If you take Halo 2 again, I'll kick you in your ovaries!" I warn, taking the stairs two at a time. I was starting to freak out a little-it was too quiet. It is never a good thing for Olette for to be in your room and completely silent (yes, in that order). That has a tendency to mean that she's planning to blackmail you and serve you your sorry ass on a silver platter, complete with the totally unnecessary parsley garnish.

"Olette!" I call, my voice just a teensy tiny bit shrill as I throw myself into my door. "What are you-?"

She was sitting on top of the laundry pile on my floor, her huge green eyes boring into his small, insignificant-looking piece of paper. To some, this might not have been too incriminating, but this Olette we're talking about, and I can see my shoe box that says _"DO NOT TOUCH-VIOLATORS WILL BE SHOT"_ on an adjacent heap of laundry. Wordlessly, she holds it up for me to see.

It's a simple photograph of Roxas. I had Axel take it back then, when he hadn't met Roxas and become Best Friend Numero Dos. It's a nice one, too—apparently, Axel's stupidity doesn't extend to digital photography.

It'd been taken a couple of years ago, during the summer. It was hotter than a hooker outside, so the four of us bummed some money off of the Parental Control and took the train to the beach. I had met Axel a few months earlier-a slightly shorter, less-stupid version of the spastic retard that Axel McQueen is today. So, I asked him to take a picture of one of my friends, a candid one, and I'd pay him.

So, we all went down to the beach. Olette got hit on by some freak with a totally wack British accent, Pence got into a culinary fight with the ice cream vendor and Roxas and I went for a swim.

I wasn't really thinking that there'd be an ideal picture in the water. We were just fooling around, diving in and out of the waves, heckling each other and laughing, 'cause we're fourteen and that's all we're concerned about; having a good time. Then Roxas pops out of the water after grabbing my foot and making me scream like a little girl, and he's giggling like drunk, up until we both get run over by this huge-ass wave.

Rox finally stands up in the water, his blonde spikes plastered to his face. Water clings to his skin, and he's got this huge smile-one that threatens to split his face in half. It's kinda like Axel's Shit-Eating Grin, but less annoying and less likely to make you suspect that he's been doing crack, and god, it's just _Roxas_, vintage Roxas. His eyes are the size of the moon, and I'm so close to him that I can count the faint freckles on his lightly tanned skin. I could kiss him, but he looks so perfect, I can't even touch him.

So, I disappeared under the waves, only alerted by the slight flash that Axel has taken the picture.

--

"Hayner." Olette says softly. "Hayner. What's this?"

"It's-" I bite my tongue. "Someone. You don't know him. Give it back, 'kay?" I make to grab the photograph back, but Olette holds it just a tiny bit out of reach, her eyes still boring holes in it.

"You know what I think?" she says, fiddling with the picture of fourteen year old Roxas.

No, I don't. And I don't care.

"I think this is Roxas. And-and I think you used to like him. Do like him. Something like that."

Damn. She's got me. "Well, you thought wrong." I lie, and immediately regret it when Olette's eyes fill up with tears. She's got huge eyes, like growth-hormone injected grapes. Every time they get all shiny and wet, I wanna die. Olette has that effect on people. Before she can start her impersonation of Niagara Falls, the doorbell rings. It's Roxas and Pence, five minutes late as usual.

"Hey! Hayner! Olette! Anybody home?"

I don't look at her. "Yeah, we're up in my room. Come on up."

Olette's eyes harden as she grabs my arm. "Hayner," she says urgently, "I think you should tell Pence and Roxas. They'll still love you, even if you're gay. Bisexual. Whatever."

"Yeah, okay."

"Really?"

"**Hell no**."

She lets out a small scream of frustration, and I started backing away, just in case she had an urge to gouge out my eyes with her pencil or anything. "You are so difficult!" she hisses, swinging open the door. "God, fine! I'll tell them!"

I swear to God and all things holy, my heart stopped. "I'll never speak to you again." I croak. Oh god, oh god, oh god. She's not really going to do it, is she? Course not. She wouldn't. "Ever." I stress, as her small hands curve around the doorknob.

She gives me this withering look, like Get real, Hay. "Stop being such a baby."

She was actually going to do it. She was going to tell my Dirty Little Secret to Roxas and Pence. Don't get me wrong; I love my friends, but this bit of information is something that's waaay beyond their mental capacity. Roxas is as homophobic as hell, and Pence, well; Pencey-boy speaks for himself. He doesn't live much outside of his photography and books. We were fine the way we were--eating junk food, getting good-enough grades, and being normal, heterosexual males (or, in my case, at least pretending to be). And Olette Annabeth Larsen, that adorable little motherfucker that she is, is going to ruin this.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. This was a matter of (social) life and death, dammit!

So, I jumped her.

Okay, it must've hurt, but she didn't have to be such a little girl about it. You know, squealing and all that crap. The only thing I probably hurt were her legs, which I landed on.

And because God hates me, Roxas and Pence choose this moment to stroll in. While I was on top of her, going, "Keep that shit under lock and key, Olette! D'you hear me? LOCK AND KEY."

And then Olette makes everything about ten times worse by beaming up at Roxas and Pence and going, "Oh, hi, guys. Guess what? I'm pregnant!"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well, the kitty cat's out of the bag now. Olette-the-innocent is knocked up, preggo, doomed, whatever-the-heck you wanna call it. I originally got the idea from reading all these fics where Olette was just an itty-bit-teeny-weeny (yellow polka dot bikini! Sorry, sorry, ignore that. I lurve that commercial.) character. She might as well be a zombie, yanno?

So, er, I made her pregnant. (Nice, I know).

I'm having a delicious amount of fun with this, and I've gotten to the point where I'm picking out names. Oh, but it's a secret, kiddies. Bid your time. :3

More importantly, doesn't that review button look stylish? Don't you just want to pocket it and take it home? Well, unfortunately, you can't. But you can review! It'll benefit you...and, it's the Good Thing To Do. You know why? _Because I have a swollen tongue._ That's right, a SWOLLEN TONGUE. And I updated, and I wrote some yummy goodness that you will read sometime soon, and dangit, I AM CREATING A _ZEMYX_ STORY FOR YOU!

Um, um.../cries/ I didn't mean to spill that...But-anyway, reviewing! Get to it, m'dears!

And yes, I do have a one track mind. :333


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:**

I own...a Roxas pin. And a Sora pin, too. But besides for that? Yeah, not much else.

**Special Dedication:**

Um... **Dubious.Mischief.Maker**, **Static Lull**...**sweet pandimonium**, 'cause they're all cool cats and they know where it's at. (I should never try to rhyme. Ever.)

**Author's Note:**

This is so, so overdue. I apologize to the people who've been waiting for this, only to find out that the lethargic author refuses to update. But! It takes so long to type them out, that's the thing...But yanno, whatever.

Ready, ready, set...GO.

* * *

_And I still don't have the right looks_

_And I still have the same three friends_

_All that changes are the fashion, names, and the trends_

_High school never ends_

-Bowling for Soup, "High School Never Ends"

* * *

**Artificial Sweetener**

**or**

**Not Tonight, Josephine**

* * *

Chapter 03: Mind Your Manners

"I'm pregnant!"

It's weighing down the room. Jesus, Olette, thanks for dropping a fucking bombshell on us. Roxas looks like he's about to choke, and Pence is now (discreetly) sweating, and Olette's just smiling at us, like it happens every day.

_"Guess what? I'm pregnant!"_

Sweet mother of pearl. I probably look like I'm dry-humping Olette into the floor.

Pregnant, **baby-infested** Olette.

This is probably why Pence turns to me and goes, _"You!"_ in this accusatory voice, like I impregnated her within the five minutes they'd been standing in the doorway. Cripes. They always blame the homos, don't they? "Oh, my flower pot's gone missing—must've been the fairy next door." "Someone stole my hot dog—must've been that gay kid." "My house is on fire and the stock market fell, so I'm forcing my daughters into prostitution—let's blame the faggots."

While I'm thinking this, Roxas says, "Pence, man, chill out. I don't think Hayner did it."

Oh my god, Roxas, I LOVE you. If it wasn't highly inappropriate, I would do you on my Finding Nemo blankets, right now. I kind of felt my eyes tear up, and my breathing get shallow at the thought. Although the latter might've been because Olette had just kneed me in my crotch as revenge for tackling her.

"I mean, this is a joke…right?" Roxas continues, staring at Olette. She climbs out from underneath me and sits on top of my stuffed animals (before you start going, "Ew, too much gayness, let me go be sick." I'll have you know that I have manly stuffed animals. Like, kangaroos and all that testosterone-type stuff. ), peering at us nervously from underneath her long eyelashes.

"No. I wish I was, but I'm not." she whispers, shuffling her feet. We all let this sink in a bit before Pence ventures, "Do you know who the father is?"

"Mmmnesiferpruhmmfum." Olette mumbles into my pillow. She's got it pressed over her mouth so all we can hear this garble of gibberish. I'm this close to imploding from anxiety, and Pence is biting his lips hard enough to split it in half. Roxas, being Mr. Suave, goes, "Come again?"

Olette looks at us and gulps out, "Seifer. Seifer Almasy."

* * *

I wasn't there for the whole thing, but I'm pretty sure I know how it went. Pence probably had a seizure from the whole mind-boggling deal of it all, and it's highly likely that Roxas broke something, the angry little shit. Yanno, the usual stuff that happens when you find out that your best friend has been knocked up by your nemesis.

Olette was like a holy artifact for us. Well, as holy as you could get with us three—Pence believed in the possibility of a higher being but wasn't too interested in the Hardcore Catholicism that his crazy parents followed, Roxas kept spouting off stuff about being agnostic whenever the subject arose, and I mostly spent my Sundays in my room with my video games, which are pretty sacred, if you ask me. It was up to us to screw things up, and for Olette to smooth things over and save us from any untimely deaths.

Now the shoe's on the other foot, and I'm pissed.

I storm out of the house, determined to find Seifer and beat the beejezus out of him. All I could think was _He fucked with Olette. He fucked with Olette? I'LL FUCK WITH HIM._

(Only without the lame innuendo, thank you. You think I wouldn't recognize that? I'm not stupid, guys. Jesus.)

I meant business; I had a freaking baseball bat, okay? Fine, it was plastic, but I grabbed the first thing near me when I left. And we don't have any wooden and/or metal bats from the younger years I spent playing the pussy-sport that is baseball. (Okay, so I had to get a plastic one for "bad behavior", alright? It was so not my fault that my bat flew out and hit Pence's ugly-ass dog in the face. And, yeah, I used to whack my coach in the shins with my bat a lot. I was YOUNG, okay?) Among other reasons, Dad is cheap as hell and will only by the crappy, used stuff that's on sale.

So, I show up at Seifer's house, ready to bust some brains out, and his mom opens the door. Well, I'm assuming that she's his mom 'cause she's got this kind of "Don't screw with me" aura (kind of like my mom), even if she doesn't really look like one. Her hair is this impossibly shade of blonde and has all this small braids in it, and, unlike any mom I've ever seen, she's wearing a skirt that's borderline Hoe-bag.

She smiles at me. "Hello! Who might you be, honey?"

One smile and just like that, all of my resolve goes out like a light.

"Hayner Calden. I'm, uh, Seifer's…"

Somehow, 'potential murderer' doesn't sound right.

"…classmate." I finish, and wince. Ouch. The lameness burns.

Mrs. Seifer's Hot Mom (I'm not saying I want her, I'm GAY for god's sake. I'm just saying that I appreciate her smile and the way that she doesn't inspire tears upon seeing her, unlike my mom) smiles at me again and seizes me by the elbow, dragging me into her Seifer-infested house. "It's so nice to see one of Fifi's little friends! I mean, Rai and Fuu come around all the time, but—ohhhh my goodness! Fifi has a new buddy, and he's so cute, too!"

Oh my GAWD. I'm trying not to choke on the combination of Mrs. Seifer's Hot Mom's sweetness and the fact that she calls him "Fifi". Unbelievable.

When she turns around to whip something out (of the OVEN, you nasty-minded children! God!), I practice telling her what I'm really here for. It's kinda hard though—she seems like a nice enough mother, and I feel just a tad uncomfortable informing her that her only child (I don't see any younger versions of Seifer scampering around, thank God) is a shameless wanker. But it's Olette we're talking about.

One of my best friends, who was wronged by the fact that Seifer couldn't keep it in his pants.

I scowl at the thought. Mrs. Almasy may be hot, and her cookies may be delicious, but she spawned the ultimate jack-off that is Seifer, so THERE WILL BE BLOOD. Much like that movie, but also not 'cause that shit is copyrighted. I'd say THERE WILL BE CARNAGE FEATURING SEIFER WHILE HIS SEXY MOTHER WATCHES ON IN HORROR, but that's long as hell and not as cool-sounding,

And I'm working my way to telling her about her son, when the Spawner-of-Seifer-Even-Though-She's-Cute-And-Bakes-Well turns around, plops a fresh plate of cookies in front of me and screeches, "FIFI! COM-PA-NY!" And then she just beams at me when I cry internally (Bye, eardrums, it was nice knowing you) as I choke on her cookies from surprise and again when she has to whack me on the back and my face ends up making nice with the kitchen table.

It's at that moment that "Fifi" chooses that moment to appear. He takes his dear sweet time on the stairs, scratching at abs. Seifer's pretty built, actually, which kind of surprised me. Probably 'cause he used to beat up me, Pence, and Roxas back in the day. My head was thinking that, but I guess my hormones kicked in and I started drooling or something equally humiliating, 'cause Seifer just gave me this look, like "Don't die in my kitchen, chicken-wuss. I don't have the money for a funeral."

"Fifi!" Seifer's mom absolutely spazzes, skipping over to cling on his arm. "You have a friend! He's brought a bat! Are you going to play baseball? I know how you boys love to smack around those balls."

"Yeah. Too many balls in the world, not enough bats to hit them with." I say nonchalantly, giving Seifer a Very Serious Look. He blinks back at me, his face a mixture of _"Gay much?"_ and _"WTF? No, seriously, WTF?"_

"What the hell're you here for?" the prize wanker says, all pissed off and what not.

"You know why."

"I don't, actually. That's why I asked you."

"Don't play dumb. I know what you did last summer."

Oops, got a little too into it, there. I backtrack and say, "Come outside."

"Are you seriously telling me to go outside? I fucking live here."

"Yeah, and monkeys live in trees. So what?"

It's pretty obvious that we didn't know what the hell we were talking about anymore, so Seifer's mom stepped in with, "Okay, boys, take this outside. Go work out that testosterone by doing it in a bush or something, okay?"

Fifi splutters, "Jesus, Rikku!" and I choke on my words as she shoves us out the door.

"But-"

"I don't give a shit!" screeches Rikku, looking a lot less cute and a lot more insane. "You negative energy is fucking up the feng shui I made in the house! You don't get back in until you've successfully departed from your inner turmoil, and that is final young man!"

Cue dramatic door-slamming, followed by Rikku's forceful meditating-banshee-shriek of "OMMMM."

Seifer turns to me and looks all frowny-face. "Look, chicken-wuss, I don't know why the hell you're here, but if you aren't gone in thirty seconds—"

"Did you do Olette in thirty seconds?" Ohmigod (Speak thee of Olette Larsen and thou will find thyself speaking like her) I can't believe I just said that. Contrary to popular belief, I am aware when the odds are against me; I mean, I can tell that my death is going to come a lot sooner than the stupid psychic on the fortune-telling hotline predicted, (it's important to get your fortune read. You never know when life could be…unfortunate. At least, that's what I tried to tell my mom when she asked about all the calls. Needless to say, she didn't buy it.) and Seifer's going to kill me with his stupid skull cap and he's gonna friggin' EAT ME-

"It's not like that."

…Eh?

I look up at Seifer and my brain nearly dies 'cause holy crap, he actually looks ashamed!

"Then what's it like, jacktard? What the hell is it like?" I shout, kicking at him Some (rational) part of my brain is admonishing me. _'Hey, hey, Hayner! Calm down! Don't freak out on Seifer.'_ Of all things, my conscious sounds like Olette.

Who's preggo.

'Cause she did the nasty with Seifer.

Oh, **hell**.

Blatantly ignoring my brain hemorrhage (self-centered bastard) and saying totally dumb shit like, "Ow, what the hell, what'd you kick me for?", Seifer rubs his shin and counters, "She wasn't supposed to! It started out with kiss, okay?"

My eyes bulge. "A kiss--a k--a KISS?!" I screech. My voice cracks on the last part, and I blush. Damn, that's embarrassing. "You—you, you kissed Olette? What the fuck, man, seriously, what the fuck?"

"Are you saying she's not kissable?" edges Seifer. I scowl. Like I would know. Like I'd kiss Olette. It'd be, like, kissing your step-sister or something.

"That's not the point! Keep your greasy paws off my girl!"

Okay, I know you're looking confused, like "But Hayner, I thought you liked men!" I do. I prefer Twinkies to cupcakes, if you know what I mean. But Olette is, in very loose terms, my girl. As in, property of Roxas, Pence, and myself. She is ours, therefore no one is allowed to screw her over. Because she's ours, and yeah, we do love her. If I wasn't into guys, I'd ask her out in a second. She's cute and sweet like candy and deserves a nice guy. Not someone like Seifer, who we all know is a certified douchebag.

Back to the story now.

I kind of jabbed Seifer in the gut with my cheap bat. I don't know if he even felt it; it's not like he flinched or anything. He should have at least pretended, but obviously, Seifer just has no manners.

"It's not my problem." says Mr. I-Got-Hit-By-A-Bat-But-I-Didn't-Even-Feel-it-'Cause-I-Have-Abs-Of-Steel. "She should've used the pill. Tell her to get it aborted, or she can have it. I don't care."

"God, you're a dick. I'm telling your mom." I sneer.

"That's low."

"Yeah, but you go lower, don't you?"

"Don't screw with me, Hayner. You're not telling Rikku."

"Try me!"

And Seifer goes "Try _this_" and sort of lunges at me. I push at his arms but it's really hard because he's taller and bigger than I am. His mouth just crashes onto mine, and our teeth smack against each other. But before I can start complaining, Seifer's stupid, gross (My hormones say "nice", but they don't know shit) tongue is scraping across my lips. To my own credit, I open my mouth to scream something like "RAPE!", and Seifer, greedy ass-hat that he is, puts his tongue in my mouth. His hands start teasing around the hem of my shirt, pushing it up higher—Okay, I'll admit it, by now I'm starting to think Hey, this isn't so bad, when I got this totally random scene in my head.

It had a teary-eyed Olette in it with some pug-ugly baby in her arms (hey, it does have half of Seifer's genes) sobbing, _"Why, Hayner, why? Now Seifer won't pay child support for Seifer-ette! And now I'm living on the street!"_ And Pence was just shaking his head in sorrow, while Roxas burst in, shrieking _"Hayner! I suddenly realized that I'm in love with you and that we should get together and, like, copulate! But –gasp- you made out with Olette's baby's daddy, leaving her to become a part-time hooker like Larxene! Speaking of which, I'm going back to her. At least she don't kiss people who impregnate her best friends! Okay, she probably does and just doesn't let anyone find out about it—but that's not the point! WHORE! YOU ARE SUCH A WHORE, HAYNER!"_

If you had that piece of work going on in your head, you'd have a spazz attack as well. Admit it.

So, I just slap him and spit, "Jerk!" I meant to sound uber-masculine about it, but I ended up sounding like that obnoxious chick from Clueless.

And then, 'cause it wouldn't be totally cliché without it, I run away. I don't think I've ever hated myself as much as I did then. Seifer knocked up one of my best friends, and I kissed him. "Good job, moron." I grumble, rubbing my lips. "You little **_slut._** God…'

But I liked it. The feel of Seifer's lips on mine, his breath on my neck, the way he tasted…

It was so wrong, it actually seemed right.

* * *

**A/N: **And now, it's announcement time, 'cause God knows how many of you actually look at the profile for what's going on. Yay.

**1)SHOPPE OPENING**

-The drabble/standalone request shoppe of wonder is open and ready for business. I will present them in the order I'm given, and I will write anything. Except for, yanno, lemons. And that extremely weird stuff with the cats. Just...no.

**2) IMPORTANT THING (god, what a lame title)**

-To keep my sanity intact (or not), I'm creating a fan-based KH story. It's pretty self-explanatory, but here it is in a nutshell:

You send in things that you most want in a KH story, and I will whip it up to shape in story-format. Anything goes, kids. Except for the aforementioned cat-and-lemons thing. Submission time ENDS November 2nd, 2008. Submission time STARTS...now, I guess. Have fun, and tell me what you want via PM.


	4. Author's Notice IMPORTANT

Well, I could spend all this time beating around the bush and totally not getting to the point, and just filling up space with pointless nonsense, but I'm not. I'm going to get to the point.

I am hereby discontinuing Artificial Sweetener, my HaynerSeifer fic.

...Um. Yeah.

I was typing out the fourth chapter when I realized, _"God. I'm just not into this anymore, am I? I just don't care."_

Honestly? The story bores me to death. I can muster a lukewarm interest, but that's the limit. Sure, I guess I could ship out the fourth section and have you guys read it, but that's just a dirty cop-out, yanno? And I'd rather update because I actually ENJOY what I'm writing, not just because.

I had Awesome Plans for AS, too: like the meeting between Olette's parents and the Twilight Town gang, some HaynerRoxas interaction, an explanation for Larxene's prickliness...even stuff about Pence's girlfriend. Gawd, Olette was going to have TWINS and name them horrible matchy-matchy names like Oliver and Olivia or Patricia and Patrick.

And now it's going to waste, and I'm really, really, sorry guys. You've all been so nice with your reviews and helpful comments. So sweet, all of you.

So, I am stating here that while Artificial Sweetener will be no more, I'd like to offer up a consolation:

A fic dedicated to some sort of fandom that you like. It doesn't have to be from KH; Death Note, Fruits Basket, Naruto, Final Fantasy VII, Bleach, heck, even DNAngel is game if it so pleases your fancy. But I'll just be picking one pairing of the ones that you might want me to write to. Be warned that this fic (if anyone submits pairings to be considered for it) won't come out until mid-spring--or even summertime.

Thanks for sticking with me thus far, guys. I appreciate it. :)

So...uh...I guess this is the part where I'm sneered at by the masses? Or hopefully not.


End file.
